Ditch the ads, upload images and much more - upgrade today from 5.95/month!
Read • Contests • Groups • Learn • Forums • Store • Help
 

At the Edge of a Field, a Distance Away

A farmhouse stands at the edge of a field
a distance away.
Tattered curtains teased by the wind
float in and out through broken windows.
No hand reaches up to pull the sash.
No face peers out to see who comes.

Silence circles the house
like the wind,
desiccating, moaning.
Decibels bounce off nothingness.
Words that were never spoken
echo across the yard -
hard-packed earth,
like hardened hearts,
unable to absorb loving rain,
unwilling to dance in muddy puddles
of forgiveness.

From the other side of the field
the white walls of the house glint in the sun.
A tall tree shades the tin roof
and spreads its branches wide for climbing.
Here in the yard, the paint peels off
in great chunks
and the roof has rusted through in places.
The heart of the tree is gone, too;
rotted away.

I lived here once,
my parents and I.
We had opportunities then,
chances to make things right.
Now, all the chances lay broken
like the windows in the house -

a house at the edge of a field,
a distance away.

A contest entry

Please tell me what you think

    : , Your review:

    Comment Suggestion: What is your your first impression?
    • Line numbers  • Invite them to read
    : no Cost: 0 free left 0 points, You have (?)

Comments

1 - 6 of 6

  • Danna Hobart
    January 4

    Edit | Reply
    Interesting simile you drew between your family and the house. You indeed posed the question of what went wrong. Thank you for entering.


  • Matt Holck
    December 21, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    still shelter from wind and rain


  • Nicolette gold member
    August 23, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Wonderful imagery in this poem. I felt as if I was there, looking in, seeing the nothingness, the brokeness, blowing with the tattered curtains in the wind. Somehow this made me think of the old saying that we don't miss the house where we grew up, but rather our childhoods... or the distance between our childhoods and today. This is lovely poetry... thank you for this entry.

    ~ Nicolette


  • Allyce May gold member
    August 22, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    Before we carry on, I need to point out that "dessicating" should actually be spelt "desiccating"

    This is very descriptive indeed. I feel like I actually experienced the distance/journey with you. A journey of an emotional distance as well as physical.

    Thank you for letting us into your thoughts

  • mysty rain
    August 13, 2008

    Edit | Reply

    BEAUTIFUL!

    This is one of the most beautiful free verses I have ever read. The reader can almost see everything you have described. The house sitting lonely with peeling paint and tattered curtains swaying all tell the story you have portrayed here. No longer does the house feel the warmth of a family and you have told us that in such beautiful words. Good luck in the contest. Mysty Rain

1 - 6 of 6